


More Than Words

by MaxWrite



Series: Bendt Series [1]
Category: Mission: Impossible (Movies), Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol (2011)
Genre: Barebacking, M/M, PWP, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-03
Updated: 2012-04-03
Packaged: 2017-11-03 00:22:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/374992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaxWrite/pseuds/MaxWrite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a screw-up on a mission, Benji's down on himself. Little does he know, Will would really like to go down on him too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	More Than Words

**Author's Note:**

> For [this prompt](http://ghotocol-kink.livejournal.com/1494.html?thread=664278#t664278): _"While escaping baddies on a mission, Benji - being the clutz he is - manages to fall off a bridge into a river. By the time he gets out, he's covered in mud & dirt (much to Brandt's amusement). He jumps in the shower once they're back at the apartment & Brandt decides to join him… This premise is just an idea, but at the end of the day, I just wanna see Brandt fucking Benji against the side of the shower ;)"_

"I don't want to talk about it," is the first thing Benji says when he stalks into the flat. It's not the most glamorous place he's stayed in since becoming a field agent, and it's even less glamorous now that he's tracked a muddy boot-print trail from the front door to the bathroom.

"It's not your fault," Will calls from the front door. Benji hears him close and lock it, then hears him quietly say, "Yeah, we're fine. You were right, they'll avoid killing if they don't have to, and, well, they definitely didn't have to tonight. We were no threat… Nah, just his pride. All right. Brandt out."

Ethan on the other end of the comm. Benji's mic and earpiece were lost in the river during his impromptu dip that he doesn't want to talk about, and he's glad of that now because hearing Will's end of that conversation was bad enough. He unlaces and toes off his waterlogged, muddy boots, peels off his wet socks. Then he straightens up and shrugs off his jacket. He avoids his own reflection as he stands there in the small bathroom. He can't even look at himself. If he does, he's afraid he might punch the mirror. He grinds his teeth as he lets the jacket fall into a wet pile on the tiled floor. He then pulls off his wet t-shirt and, in a sudden burst of anger, balls it up and chucks it. It slaps against a wall with a watery _smack_ , then tumbles to the floor.

"Easy there, killer," says Will from outside the bathroom. Benji shoots him a glare. He's standing in the short hall where the bathroom and only bedroom are, watching Benji with what might be either friendly concern or some annoying, senior agent benevolence that Benji really doesn't want to deal with right now.

But instead of saying that, Benji simply says, "I'm fine."

The way Will continues to watch him, it's clear Will doesn't believe him.

With a weary look and a sigh, Benji turns his face away and unfastens his pants. "I just want to shower and go to bed. We don't have to make a big thing out of this, do we? I'll have enough to answer for when we see Ethan tomorrow morning."

"We don't have to talk about it, Benji, I just…"

"You just what?" Benji demands impatiently when Will trails off. He straightens up again after stepping out of his wet pants, leaves them pooled on the floor and stands there in his boxer briefs. They're soaked too, of course, and they hug _everything_ , like opaque cling film draped over his bits and pieces. He may as well be standing there naked. But it's just Will. Nothing Will hasn't seen before; it's the same equipment he owns, after all. Besides, with all the quick changes they need to execute on missions, Will's probably seen much more of Benji than Benji even realizes.

Benji doesn't miss it, the way Will's eyes travel down his body. He instinctively sucks in his gut, then remembers there isn't a gut there to suck, not anymore. Becoming a field agent means being in top condition. He's not like Will or Ethan, with their broad shoulders and arguably superfluous muscles. No, he's a slender thing. He keeps forgetting that.

Why Will feels the need to stare is a mystery, but Benji figures he's probably wondering how Benji ever managed to pass the field exam in the first place. With a scowl, Benji steps to the door, shuts it on Will, locks it. He then turns away, sheds his underwear and turns on the water in the shower, nice and hot.

For a while he just stands with his face turned up to the spray, letting it dissolve and rinse away the mud on his face. It's the most welcome feeling in the world, the hot water running down his cold, aching body. Metaphors run through his head as he stands there; water washing away the day, washing away his mistakes, the heat melting off that layer of dirt and grime and regret, leaving him brand new, a clean slate. Or something stupid like that. He shakes his head at himself and proceeds to wash his hair.

He's just finished rinsing the two-in-one shampoo/conditioner out of his hair when he hears something through the white noise of rushing water. He pauses, glances toward the shower door and sees a figure approaching. It's Will; the shape of him is as familiar as Benji's own reflection by now, but the image, blurry from the steam and the frosted effect on the glass, is flesh-tone from head to toe. No blocks of color to indicate clothing. Benji blinks and squints.

"Will?" he calls.

"Yep, just me," Will replies, casual as you please. He slides the door open, and Benji recoils, covering as much of himself as he can.

"What the…" Benji begins as Will steps inside and slides the door shut. "Will, what the hell?!"

Will remains calm, like this is perfectly normal behavior. He is a veritable tower of superfluous muscle, toned and firm and perfect, with just the right amount of body hair, not too much, not perfectly smooth. Benji tries not to stare, looks away until he remembers that he locked the bathroom door. He looks to Will again, keeping his eyes above the neck.

"I locked that door," he says.

"Nothing works right in this place, you know that," Will replies as he sets a little bottle down in the wire shower caddy hanging from the shower head.

 

 _Of course,_ Benji thinks. Then, out loud, he says, "Erm, not to be rude or anything, but what the hell are you doing?"

"Thought you could use the company," Will says. "Besides, you know the plumbing around here's iffy at best. Thought we could, you know, conserve water."

Benji just stares in disbelief, mouth hanging open, as Will wets himself under the spray, turning his face up to it and then letting it soak his hair. He then steps back from it a bit, smooths his hair back, wipes water from his eyes and looks at Benji with that same look he'd had just outside the bathroom, when he'd given Benji that appraising once-over with his eyes.

"We don't have to talk, Benji," he says quietly. His gaze is piercing, dark. His nostrils actually flare a little.

And Benji finally catches up.

He glances up toward the shower caddy. Amongst the shampoo and shower gel, Will has placed a little bottle of personal lubricant.

Benji gulps and now he can't stop his eyes from taking in Will's body, the way the water is cascading over one of his big, broad shoulders, down over the one half of his chest. The pec on that side twitches beneath the glossy sheet of water. The little brown nipple is rock hard. Both of them are. Will's lower half is getting hit too, and Benji has to look. Will is getting hard as Benji watches. Water is traveling down the length of his dick and running off the tip.

Benji feels lightheaded. It's been hours since he last ate. Low blood sugar. And, also, no blood left in his brain. That certainly isn't helping.

"Come here," Will says, reaching out, taking Benji's hand and pulling him close, right into his arms. Benji is still too stunned to resist. "Say something, will you? I've never seen you this quiet."

Benji can barely get his brain to function now that Will's solid, wet body is pressed to his, now that those big hands are on him. Forming words is going to be difficult. He tries anyway and manages a meek, "I don't want your pity."

Will presses his hard-on firmly against Benji's groin. "That feel like pity to you?" he asks, his voice so low, Benji thinks he actually feels it rumbling in his own stomach. He shakes his head no.

And then Will is kissing him, one big hand cupping the back of his head, forcing his mouth open wide so that Will can slide his tongue deep inside. Suddenly Benji doesn't trust his own knees. He grips Will's biceps, afraid he might crumble into a heap on the tile. For the first time he really feels Will's body, the arms first, his fingertips pressing at the taut bulges of muscle. Then he goes exploring as they kiss, feeling Will's waist, his back, his chest, and then finally coming to rest on those impressive shoulders.

Will's hands find Benji's backside and cup it firmly, possessively. He actually grunts against Benji's mouth as he grips Benji back there and holds on. Benji is still wondering what the hell is happening, but that concern is becoming less and less important. He squirms in Will's arms, grinding against him. He can't keep still now. The hot, wet press of Will's dick against his own is too good.

Soon Will is holding onto Benji's hips and moving with him, grinding too. He presses Benji back against the wall, widens his stance a bit. Benji thrusts his hips forth and they keep rubbing, quickly getting lost in the mindless need for friction. Benji claws at the skin across Will's shoulder blades and licks at his mouth, sucks water from his lips, so hungry and sloppy he barely recognizes himself in this tangle of limbs and tongues.

Then Will manages to pull away to grab the lube from the shower caddy. He looks into Benji's eyes, asking a silent question. Benji merely nods, and Will's hands go to work. All his cool calmness is rapidly seeping away, being edged out by pure need, and he fumbles a bit with the little bottle. Benji watches him bite his bottom lip as he works a bit of lube out onto his fingers, watches that lip slip out from between his teeth, wet and pouty and suckable. Benji has been slowly rocking his hips from side to side, lazily rubbing their dicks together while watching Will, but then he stops and slides his hand down between them, going for his own cock, needing to touch it while the other hand rather lovingly caresses Will's arm. The backs of his fingers rub against Will's cock and he abandons himself to stroke Will's shaft instead. It's thick and warm and firm, heavy with arousal. It pulses in Benji's hand.

"I'm glad you two are getting to know each other," Will remarks as he drops the bottle back in the caddy, and then his arm goes around Benji again to pull him away from the wall. "I think he likes you."

Benji lets "him" go and now hangs onto other parts of Will. "I'd still like to know what you and he are doing here."

"We thought you and _him_ might be a little lonely." Will's free hand goes down between them and gives Benji's dick an affectionate squeeze. His fingers are well lubed and when he moves his hand to Benji's back, he leaves a slippery residue behind on Benji's shaft. The lubed fingers go for Benji's ass, slipping in between his cheeks to find his hole. Will's lips come back for more kisses, so desperate to taste Benji again that he moans as their lips come together. Benji melts into the kiss as Will's thick fingers rub at his entrance, and then one finally slips inside, and Benji's mind goes blank.

Soon, another finger joins the first and Benji responds, moaning into Will's mouth and rubbing against him quick and steady. Benji's response ignites Will and he becomes ravenous, teeth nipping at Benji's lips, the kiss becoming rough and hard. Will grips one of Benji's thighs, yanks it up, parallel with the floor, and holds it that way, against his own hip. He nestles between Benji's legs and finger fucks Benji in time with the rhythmic movement of their bodies.

Finally, Benji tears his mouth away and breathes, "Just fuck me."

Will looks at him with his dark, smoldering gaze. "You sure?"

" _Yes_. Please. Right now."

Will nods, utters a breathy, hasty, "Okay," and withdraws his fingers. He lowers Benji's leg and pulls back to grab the lube and slick his cock with it. Benji stares, in awe of the physical perfection before him, as Will strokes the slippery liquid up and down his shaft. "Aw, _fuck_ , Benji," Will sighs, eying Benji in much the same lascivious way.

"Yes, fuck Benji," Benji agrees, changing the meaning of Will's words. He reaches back to finger his own hole, as deep as he can with three fingers, a final opportunity to loosen himself up a bit more. His jaw goes slack as he pushes them in and he groans, "God, please fuck Benji."

"Come here," Will orders, dropping the lube to the floor and pulling Benji back into his arms. He is rough and dominant, his fingers bruising Benji's skin as he hoists Benji's thigh back up into his grasp. "Grab onto my neck and pull yourself up," he murmurs. Benji tries not to think about the two of them potentially slipping and dying together here (or worse – sustaining injuries that will require awkward explanations) as he does as he's told, wraps his arms securely around Will's neck and pulls. Will helps him up, gets a hold underneath the other thigh and lifts. Benji's legs wrap around Will's waist and Will presses Benji's back to the wall.

"Did you know that slip-and-falls account for over twenty thousand fatalities per year in North America?" Benji says as he adjusts his grip.

Will frowns. "That's what you're thinking about right now?"

"Yes. That and you fucking me. Suffice it to say, my dick is rather confused."

"You're fucking weird, you know that? Hold on tight. I gotta use one of my hands."

Benji shudders with pleasure shocks that burst in his lower belly and make his cock throb when Will grips his own dick and rubs the head against Benji's asshole, ready to start pushing inside. Benji bears down, he breathes deep, tries to relax. He puts his head back against the wall and closes his eyes, concentrating.

"Don't rush it, baby," Will whispers.

Benji would never admit it, but that little term of endearment feels good. The easy way it slips from Will's mouth feels good. It feels natural, like that's exactly what Will should be calling him. Benji groans, in part from the way his chest aches as he thinks about Will calling him all sorts of pet names – during sex, during casual conversation, by accident in front of Jane and Ethan – but mostly from the pressure he feels as Will begins pushing inside. He keeps his breathing steady, slowly working Will up inside himself. Will lets go of his cock and that hand goes back to grip underneath the thigh it had abandoned. Soon Benji is stretched wide open and filled up so completely, he grimaces.

"Want you," Will moans, almost whimpers. He leans in close, nestling his face next to Benji's to nose at his cheek and his ear and his neck. "Want you so bad."

"Want you too – Jesus fucking Christ," Benji groans as Will slides all the way in. Benji is already panting, trying to breath his way through the discomfort. He feels Will shudder in his arms, knows the tightness and heat of his, Benji's, body is driving him crazy. Will wants to move. He needs to. Benji can feel the tension in his muscles.

"Fuck me," Benji orders, right in Will's ear. "Go. _Now_."

Will obeys him, presses in as deep as he can, then pulls back and pushes all the way in again, sighing as he moves. Benji clenches his jaw and lets out a strangled cry at both the pain and the strokes of pleasure he feels each time Will grazes his prostate.

"Benji," Will moans.

"Don't stop," Benji pants. He's quickly reaching the point where the pain doesn't matter, is inconsequential compared to the pleasure. He holds on tight so he can lift himself up a little and adjust. He spreads his legs wider, gets a bit closer to Will, gets Will in deeper. Will takes that as a sign and begins thrusting faster until he's pummeling Benji against the tile. The discomfort eases completely and gives way to pure, unadulterated bliss. Benji can't be quiet. He doesn't want to. He doesn't care who hears, and somebody certainly must be; the walls in this place are paper thin.

"God, you're so fucking hot," Will breathes against Benji's neck, sucking and licking the skin there. "You don't know, you have no fucking clue how long I've wanted to do this to you."

Benji really doesn't know. Since they met, maybe? Has Will wanted this as long as Benji has?

"Gonna come inside you," Will informs him. He pulls his head back to look Benji in the eye. Benji, who has quieted down some, meets Will's hot gaze with his own and realizes that Will isn't asking permission. He would, of course, if Benji gave him any indication that coming inside him isn't okay. But Benji didn't hesitate to agree to get fucked right here and now, didn't stop Will to mention anything about condoms, and Benji has no intention of stopping him from filling him with come. Benji doesn't nod at Will's statement. Because it wasn't a question. He simply holds Will's gaze as he adjusts his grip so he can reach down between them and take hold of his own cock. He starts stroking himself quickly.

Their eyes remain fixed on each other, darting around each other's faces and occasionally locking again. Little droplets of water run down Will's face like teardrops, a couple settle on his pretty lashes, catching the light. Will actually smiles. As he and Benji pant and moan and curse and grunt and stare at each other, into each other, inches from each other's faces, his mouth curls into a lazy, lopsided grin. It's the sexiest fucking thing Benji's ever seen.

Then Will closes his eyes and presses his forehead to Benji's. He fucks faster, his breaths coming in quick, shallow puffs through his nose. He's close. Benji works his own shaft with an expert hand, knowing exactly how to get himself off when he wants, trying to time it to match Will. He brings himself to the brink, panting hard against Will's face and writhing in his arms, riding Will's cock as much as Will is thrusting into him. Will's desperate moans as he tips over the edge, the feeling of his dick pulsing with climax pushes Benji over the edge too. Benji drops his head back against the wall and just groans as he exhales and all the tension inside him eases out in a wave of pure pleasure. Will's doing the same, only his face is buried against Benji's neck. Benji can feel Will's shuddering voice reverberating inside his own throat. He feels Will's come spurting inside him as he squeezes himself dry, strings of come splattering against Will's stomach. His muscles clench as he comes, tightening around Will's cock and no doubt having a hand in making Will shudder hard in Benji's arms.

Benji thought he was dead weight in Will's hands before, but it was nothing compared to now. As his body comes down from its orgasm high, every limb feels like it's been weighted down. Will carefully eases his grasp so that Benji can lower his legs. Back on his feet again, Benji sags against the wall.

"You all right?" Will asks. He still stands close, keeps his hands on Benji's body, now on his waist. He nuzzles, kisses Benji's cheek.

 _Oh,_ Benji thinks. He'd assumed Will would be finished and gone, back out into the flat to await the awkwardness that would surely follow this impromptu fuck session. But Will doesn't seem to be going anywhere.

Tentatively, Benji touches Will's arms, then puts his arms around him. Will emits a contented sigh and melts against him.

"I'm fine," Benji finally replies. "We're wasting water."

"Yeah," Will sighs. He pulls away, but not before kissing Benji's mouth. He goes for the soap, hands it to Benji, then picks up the shampoo/conditioner and proceeds to wash his hair.

 _Oh,_ Benji thinks again, surprised that Will is staying to shower. Okay. They actually _are_ trying to conserve water.

* * *

Finally dry and having donned boxers and a t-shirt, Benji struggles with the awful pullout couch that had been living in the flat before they got there. The entire place had been pre-furnished and nothing quite works right. The pullout insists on staying firmly folded up unless tugged on in just the right way, which usually involves a perfectly-timed kick to the base of the couch as one pulls. Benji pulls and kicks, pulls and kicks. The couch is being stubborn tonight.

"That's probably a sign," says Will from behind. Benji glances over his shoulder and sees Will striding across the scuffed hardwood, coming from the hallway and heading for the kitchen. He is shirtless and has put on a pair of pajama pants that sit low on his hips, drawstring tied neatly in a bow beneath his navel. Benji watches Will's manhood bobbing beneath the thin fabric as Will moves. Will doesn't seem to notice the eyes on him, or is ignoring them.

"What's that mean?" Benji asks, continuing his pulling and kicking.

"I think that couch is trying to tell you something," Will replies. He forgoes turning on the kitchen light and goes straight for the fridge. The fridge's light illuminates him as he peers inside.

"Like what, that it wants to be free?" Benji asks. "That we should just let it go so it can run wild with its brethren in the dumpster out back? Because I'm seriously considering that right now."

"There's a perfectly good bed in the bedroom. That's what I meant."

"It's your night on the bed, I had it last night."

"Yeah, Benji, I know," Will says, sounding a little exasperated. He shuts the fridge, then comes to stand in the kitchen's archway, leaning a shoulder against it and folding his arms. He watches Benji.

"Are you saying you want to deal with this thing for a second night in a row?" Benji asks.

"Nope."

"Then _what_?"

"You're not really this dense, are you?"

No, Benji isn't really this dense. He knows what Will is implying. With a sigh, he straightens up again and looks at Will. "What just happened? In the shower. I mean, I know what happened, but _why_ did it happen?"

"I like you. Okay? And you looked like you needed a little… uh…"

"Comfort? Pity?"

"No, not pity. Comfort, yeah, maybe, but not pity." Will uncrosses his arms and pushes away from the wall. He comes toward Benji as he says, "I saw you standing there in the bathroom, practically naked, mud on your face and in your hair, and you looked so dejected, and I felt bad 'cause I laughed before."

Benji shrugs. "It was funny. I fell into a bloody river, somehow managed to not injure myself. I'd have laughed if it had been any of you, but of course it wasn't. Besides, I hadn't screwed up yet on this mission, so I was well due."

"You see, right there. That's what bothers me, _has_ been bothering me since we fished you out of that river. You think this is your role or something, that you're the team jester, the klutz, the fuck-up, and you're not. We _all_ fuck up, each one of us. Don't you remember the Hendricks mission? I nearly got us all killed when I looked right into Moreau's eyes with that damn contact lens still in mine, leaned down close and _looked right at her_ , like an idiot. And Jane kicked the woman out a window, and Ethan… well…"

"He was flawless," Benji says flatly.

"Yeah, he kinda was," Will admits with a wince. "Doesn't that get on your nerves sometimes?"

Benji has to smile.

"Perfect bastard. He just wakes up everyday looking like that, doesn't he?" Will adds.

"I bet Chuck Norris calls _him_ when he needs someone's arse kicked."

Will grins at that. "Okay, Ethan's slightly superhuman, but the rest of us aren't. We make mistakes just like you do, and the way you looked after we got you outta that river and you'd finished coughing and cracking jokes…" Serious now, he shakes his head. "I knew what you were thinking and I just… Tonight just felt like the right time to tell you."

"Why?"

"Because I thought that tonight, of all nights, you needed to know…" Will steps closer. He's gone all sleepy-eyed and low-voiced again. He raises a hand and touches Benji's cheek. "You needed to know that some of us think you're amazing. Some of us think you're brilliant. Well, Jane and Ethan think that too. But some of us also think you're incredibly sexy."

He leans in and kisses Benji's mouth, a soft, gentle kiss that nonetheless packs a punch. Benji feels it in his chest, in his stomach, in his groin.

The kiss breaks and Benji, ever the comedian, frowns and says, "Who, Ethan?"

Will smiles. "Well, sometimes he does kinda look at you like he might wanna rip your clothes off."

"Head. Not clothes. Head."

"You don't always have to be on, you know."

"Yes, I do. When I'm nervous. Can't help it."

"I make you nervous now?"

Benji doesn't answer that. Instead he says, "Coulda taken me out for a coffee and told me all this."

"Yeah. Coulda. But you standing there with those wet boxer briefs clinging to your big dick like…" Will stops, shuts his mouth and his jaw muscles convulse. He looks like there are about a million filthy things he'd like to say to Benji just then, but he holds back. Benji stares, incredulous. "Everything just sort of came to a head for me tonight," Will finally explains. "There were no words, Benji, I just needed to… well, you saw, you were there."

"You just had to have me?"

"Yeah. That so hard to believe?"

Benji shrugs and glances down. "You think my dick is big?" He looks up from underneath his lashes. He's blushing something terrible.

There's that lazy smile again as Will nods and murmurs, "Nice fat cock." He pulls Benji into his arms and whispers, "Come to bed."

"What happens when Ethan and Jane come down from their place and burst in here at the crack of dawn to talk strategy, without a courtesy call first, without even knocking?" Then Benji adds under his breath, "Ethan just had to insist on each of us having both sets of keys, didn't he?"

"That was for safety and convenience," Will says sensibly. "Besides, I don't care if they know. Do you?"

To be honest, the thought of getting caught is more than a little intriguing to Benji. And Will is gorgeous, and he's kind and sensitive and as brilliant as any of them. And he's shirtless and standing awfully close and he smells amazing and his dick is now pressed against Benji's thigh.

"Come to bed, Benji," Will repeats when Benji doesn't reply. "You know, what happened in the shower before?" He leans in again and this time puts his lips close to Benji's ear to whisper, "I wasn't finished with you."

Benji feels a surge of arousal deep down in his stomach. He goes for Will's mouth, kisses him again, and Will's arms tighten around him. Then Will is guiding him toward the bedroom, but something nags at the back of Benji's mind. He stops and breaks the kiss.

"Wait, hang on," he says. Will stops to listen. "I'm not the sort of guy who can jump into something without a plan. Unless I'm forced to, of course. But this… I need to know what this is before I can go forward. What is it that you want? What were you thinking would happen after the mission? What happens next? What happens tomorrow? What happens after Ethan and Jane find out? Because they _will_ find out, and then we'll have explaining to do, not that I think either will particularly care. Well, Jane might, she'll probably think we're terribly cute together, but the point is –"

"Benji, stop," Will interrupts. He takes Benji's hand, pauses a moment and then says, "I just wanna be with you. Whatever that means, whatever you're comfortable with. You wanna go out for a coffee and talk? Yeah, once we're finished with this mission, I'd love to. You wanna do dinner and a movie, bowling, mini golf, pottery painting, whatever the hell it is normal couples do, then sure. I'm game. You wanna just mess around on occasion, no strings… I can live with that. I _wasn't_ thinking when I jumped into the shower with you tonight. I just wanted you. There was no plan. And you certainly weren't in the mood to talk. Besides, considering the mood you were in, it seemed to me actions might be more effective than words."

Benji doesn't miss the word "couples" when it slips from Will's mouth, or the slightly resigned tone with which he says he'd live with a no-strings relationship. But rather than focus on that, he frowns and says, "Pottery painting?"

"That's a thing that people do, isn't it?"

"What people?"

"I don't know. People."

"Incredibly boring people."

"Right, sorry, I forgot who I was talking to. What I meant to say was, uh, something about video games. Or a _Walking Dead_ marathon. Or comic book shopping. Or browsing for t-shirts with weird shit printed on them."

"That's better."

"Okay, then."

"Coffee will be fine. Once the mission's over and we're both still alive and everything."

Will nods and squeezes Benji's hand. "After the mission. And in the meantime?"

"In the meantime…" Benji looks toward the hallway where he can see the soft glow of lamplight from the bedroom. He knows the bed is unmade because he didn't have time to make it that morning and the sheets are soft and warm and twisted up a little, just waiting for a pair of naked bodies to curl up in them. The pullout is looking less and less appealing, not that it ever was.

He looks to Will again. "Blowjobs and a cuddle?" he offers sheepishly.

Will grins as they start walking again, hand in hand. "Sounds like a plan. Although, I'm pretty sure the coffee's supposed to come before the blowjobs and shower-fucking. Think we might've got that backwards."

Benji snorts. "Says who?"

"I don't know. Probably those people who paint pottery on dates."

END


End file.
